


The Boyfriend Look™

by thenewlondoner (muleumpyo)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Artist Teddy Lupin, Background Relationships, Community: hp_nextgen_fest, Explicit Language, Family Dynamics, HP Next Gen Fest 2018, Harry Potter Next Generation, M/M, Pining, Post-Hogwarts, Ravenclaw James Sirius Potter, Sharing Clothes, Sibling Bonding, Surprise Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-11 13:30:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16476470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muleumpyo/pseuds/thenewlondoner
Summary: General reviews for Teddy Lupin's taste in clothes include: a sartorial travesty (Albus Potter), absolutely painful (Lily Potter), very 80s (Hugo Granger-Weasley). James just sees Teddy.





	The Boyfriend Look™

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Jessica for always offering to beta and encouraging me to create anything Harry Potter related, none of this would the same without you! And thank you to Tonks914 for the absolutely delightful prompt, it made me laugh just reading it originally. Hope you enjoy! And of course thanks to the mods, who are always so helpful and remind me to take part in the fest every year, it’s been another fun year :)

"I have no idea how he’s made it as an artist when he likes colour combinations like _that_ ," Albus sighed in despair.

The Potter and Granger-Weasley cousins (sans Rose for this evening, as she had a Healer-in-Training shift she couldn’t beg off from) turned as one and watched as the artist in question, Teddy Lupin, made his way through the crowd. 

The art gallery was rather large for a space in Hackney Downs but there were so many people packed in for Teddy's show that it was hot and stuffy and everyone was already starting to get cranky. They had run out of drinks at the bar less than half an hour past the beginning of the show.

"A lot of artists utilised traditionally conflicting colour combinations," James began, swallowing down a sip of his lager, "like Keith Haring, Clyfford Sill, Frank Stella—"

Albus, Lily and Hugo groaned in unison. 

"I know you love him, James," Lily said—James opened his mouth to protest, Hugo coughed emphatically, and Lily rolled her eyes— " _Like we all do._ But even you’ve got to admit that’s a bad combination. It’s hurting my eyes."

James looked at Teddy, standing casually in the crowd, one hand stuffed in the pocket of his khaki combat trousers. He looked perfectly normal to James.

"Combat trousers!" hissed Lily to Hugo, who made a face. "Who wears combat trousers in 2025? I know he's a wizard but he's been living in East London for five years, for Merlin's sake."

"Where did he even find them?" Hugo muttered back. 

"Thought I burnt them all two years ago in protest," Albus added. "Guess I missed one."

Above his combat trousers splattered in paint, Teddy sported a bright, almost robins-egg blue shirt, covered in neon pink and orange tropical birds competing for visual dominance in a big, splashy print. His dark hair was cut with deep purple highlights and from one ear hung a bright silver enchanted sphere which occasionally flickered with colours. 

And right in the middle of Teddy’s white smile and dark, serious eyebrows were dark brown eyes which were— looking right at James. 

James felt himself flush, nearly flicking his gaze away before he realised that was bloody ridiculous. Maybe they hadn’t seen each other for a couple of months, but Teddy and James were _friends._ It wasn’t as if he were caught staring at a fit stranger. Not that he had as much experience with that as he would have liked.

He cracked an answering grin and raised a hand to Teddy, whose smile widened. Warmth spread through James’ chest, like a spark had caught at the edge of kindling. 

"See what I mean?" Lily whispered to Albus. 

"See what?" Albus hissed back. "Now I can’t see anything but that frankly ridiculous shirt— the 80s are back and they are out for my _eyeballs._ "

"You know, they say love makes one entirely oblivious to obvious flaws. Say, for example, wearing tragic colour combinations. Or maybe it's the other way around, I forget."

"Yeah," Albus scoffed, "and if every bloke I met wore a shirt like that I'd be in love with half of London. No need for posh dining or a night out, just meet me at the door wearing that and I'd be so disorientated I’d mistake it for love."

"I'm going to put that in your Wands Up! profile and see what kind of blokes you pull," Lily replied, before dropping her voice and lifting her drink up to her mouth as if it were a microphone, imitating the serious tone of a Quidditch commentator, "‘Be advised, potential suitors. Will fall in love at first sight if you wear hi-vis clothing and/or any colour combination from the 80s. Think: your basic traffic cone.’ See if we can liven up your dating choices a bit."

James knew from personal experience Albus was probably turning a lovely shade of puce by now. He didn't even need to turn around to see his younger brother’s face. There were detriments for Albus being the fairest of the Potter children, most of whom had inherited their father’s dark golden-brown skin tone, and having every embarrassment reflected in bright blushes was one of them. 

Albus hissed, "Don’t you dare. Swear to Merlin, Lily, if you touch my mobile I'll—"

Lily laughed. "You'll what?" 

There was a scuffle behind James and Lily’s recognisably loud cackle, presumably as she used her wiles and impossibly quick Quidditch reflexes to snatch the mobile from Albus.

"It's your fault the last one you brought home was a banker. I didn't realise how little I cared for _diversifying my portfolio_ until Bradley nearly put us all to sleep talking about ‘investment options’ and ‘mutual funds’ and—"

"You know I can’t turn down a man in a three piece suit. Or a woman."

"The worst curse, to be sure," Hugo responded dryly, "for us. You need to stop hanging around the City, Al." 

James noted Hugo and his drink were staying a safe distance from the Potter sibling scuffle.

Albus shot Hugo a glare. "Ashok should never have held his birthday in a pub near Cannon Street and maybe I wouldn't have met any bankers."

Lily groaned. "You’re such a sucker for the uptight— I mean, upright—type. That is _absolutely_ your greatest weakness, Al."

"Not the bloody point! And if you don't give that back to me this _instant_ , Lily, I'm going to—"

James tuned his siblings out as they continued to bicker behind him. Hugo just stood aside and laughed. 

Teddy waved back over the shoulder of the pristine black suit of the man he was speaking to and James tried to ignore the leap of his traitorous heart. 

The summer away after the end of university was supposed to make James forget all about Teddy. He was supposed to be cured of staring longingly at those large hands and turning his head at the sound of that deep voice and wanting to throw a possessive arm over those broad shoulders. And especially of wanting to kiss the crinkle next to Teddy's eyes when he smiled or that one canine that had come in slightly crooked— ah, bloody hell.

Six weeks in Italy and one in Greece and another out to Egypt to visit his Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur and cousins and he hadn’t forgotten a damn thing.

Of course, he’d also spent most of the summer at the bottom of a trench out in the fields of Umbria, on an Etruscan gravesite dig (his degree in Magi-Archaeology was worth something, after all). Which meant so many hours out in the middle of nowhere, with only a few other magi-archaeologists (none of whom were quite James’ type, though he had learned there was no good way to have a friends with benefits situation when one was trapped in the countryside for six weeks, so it had been a moot point, anyway).

So for six weeks he’d been relegated to his right hand, his memories, and his hormone-fueled longing for his longtime friend. Yes, they were friends and— no matter James’ feelings— that’s all they would ever be, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, thank you very much for bringing it up, _Lily_. 

There was nothing quite like forced isolation to make oneself realise the hopeless level of pining one had. And if he’d spent however many lonely nights in his tent imagining Teddy in the golden Italian sunset, cheekbones gleaming and dark eyes catching the light as he smiled that heart-stopping smile, then what of it? 

A man was allowed his fantasies, even if they were largely tame. James was slightly embarrassed that most of the time he just imagined the two of them finding a lonely meadow somewhere and making out with nothing but the crushed smell of fragrant grass and the sound of birds chirping somewhere in the background. 

He really hadn't been trying quite so hard to forget Teddy, he had to admit.

Most of the summer had actually been punishingly hot and sweaty, constant toiling under the heavy sun. It had been like most of the Italian countryside—better in theory and viewed from a place with working aircon— with the addition of tonnes of turned earth and the somewhat dank odor that came from digging up graves. Not very sexy, to be honest.

The good part was that he was back in time for Teddy’s art show opening, a fact which would have been more exciting if Teddy had more than two minutes to come talk to them before being shuttled off to schmooze with more buyers or critics or journalists or whoever. His agent whisked him off to speak to somebody more _important_ barely a minute after he had said hello and gave each of them a hug. 

James only had enough time to say, "Hi, yep, off to Oxford for Masters in a couple weeks, thanks, yeah, I got the tan digging in the archaeology pits not the Grecian beaches you wanker, your work is _amazing_ , thanks, bye, Teds, see you later—" and Teddy was gone again into the crowd, distinguishable only by the monstrously coloured shirt that became a smaller and smaller speck amongst the sea of grey and black suits. 

And maybe he stared after Teddy for an extra second or two, but who was counting?

"Can’t believe you didn’t just make out right here," Albus drawled from right at his elbow.

"That’d liven it up," Lily offered.

"Could do with some excitement, honestly," said Hugo.

Apparently, everyone.

James spun around, his cheeks flaming. "Excuse me?"

Albus looked at him cooly with his patented Slytherin Disdain™, one eyebrow raised. He had apparently regained his mobile from Lily's scheming grasp, and was now as chilled as a midnight dip in the Great Lake. 

It was truly unfair that little brothers could get taller than their elders. There should have been some rule that set the cap of potential height at wherever the first child made it to. James was a respectable 5’10" but Albus and Lily had inherited the Weasley gene for lanky height and towered over him at 6’1" and 5’ 11" respectively. 

"Nothing," Albus said helpfully. 

"Make out with who?" James demanded. 

Albus smirked, piercing green eyes impenetrable in the low gallery lighting. "Nothing, bro."

James whipped a look over at Lily but her face was carefully innocent. Hugo was similarly blank-faced. 

"What are you talking about?" he demanded fruitlessly.

When none responded, he huffed and turned away to look out into the crowd, his ears burning. It really didn’t help to be hopelessly in love with someone when your siblings could take every available opportunity to annoy you about it.

Something had happened in those two years between James’ and Albus’ entrances to Hogwarts. When he had gotten back after his first year, his siblings, usually at each other's throats, were inexplicably thick as thieves and after the second year, virtually inseparable. 

"He’s got heart eyes, ladies and mens and my nonbinary friends," Hugo said in a deadpan American accent, "and he’s not afraid to use them."

James choked on his response and the drink he had just brought to his lips.

"Sh-shut up!"

Albus and Lily just laughed.

* * *

At least neither Al nor Lily were there when Teddy’s hawk swooped in next morning and delivered a note.

_Meet for drinks? 7PM?_

_x Teddy_

James let out an undignified sound of glee he would never live down if another human heard it. Oscar, Teddy’s sleek brown hawk, nipped James’ ear and ruffled her feathers when he started doing a little victory dance.

"Right, right, let’s get you some treats," James said and puttered over to his desk. He shoved some of the scrolls and stacked parchments out of the way, ignoring the way some of them spilled out onto the floor. Eventually he managed to dig up a battered tin for Cockroach Clusters (he had strange tastes as a child, alright?) and gave Oscar some treats as he tried to find an unused scrap of parchment on which to scrawl out a reply. 

He spent an inordinately long time scratching out a casual but excited reply. Oscar was starting to get a little restless by the time James decided on: _The usual place? See you tonight._

James hesitated a moment before writing _Love, James_ at the bottom of the letter.

"Don’t tell him how long it took me to write that, alright, Oscar?" James asked as he tied the scroll of paper to the hawk’s leg. 

The hawk butted its head against James’ hand, gave him a significant look with its brilliant gold eyes, and took off into the early morning light.

* * *

The Flaming Prince was lively as usual when James opened the door five minutes to seven. James had managed to order two pints of Bunbury’s Finest and wrangled the last available booth just before Teddy rolled in.

He was wearing another bright shirt, this in various bright shades of red, green and blue in the shape of ferns and tropical birds, and pair of ripped jeans that hugged his arse just right. 

Lily would be happy he scrapped his combat trousers for this meeting.

"Jamie!" Teddy called, arms outstretched. 

James rose into the warm embrace, inhaling the scent of pine and the slight warmth of musk. As he fell into the embrace, he remembered exactly what he had missed with Teddy and he in separate countries for the summer, electricity arcing up through his heart. 

Teddy squeezed him extra tight for an extra moment, then pulled back. His brown eyes were warm in the low light of the bar. 

"You look good, Jamie," he said, gaze sliding over James’ face. "How was your summer?"

James smiled, embarrassed and pleased. "Great, great. Italy was amazing."

Teddy looked good, too, as he ran a hand through his hair and the muscles in his arms flexed, but James didn’t think it would be possible to say, "You, too!" and have it come out without him sounding like a complete wanker. 

James stared at him for a moment before Teddy raised his eyebrows and waved at the booth.

"Oh, er, right! I grabbed a pint for you already," James said as they slid into the wooden benches across from each other. The enclosed space, with the outside sound magically dampened and the lights low, felt close and intimate in a way James hadn't noticed before. There was a reason they called it ‘the snug’, he guessed. 

"Bunbury’s Finest, I presume?" Teddy asked with a small smile as he lifted up a pint. "Bet you've missed it, even with all that top-shelf Tuscan wine you've been slugging."

James laughed. "I don't know what kind of salary you think your average archaeologist pulls, but I assure you it's not enough for anything ‘top-shelf.’"

"Well, here's to the best ale we artists and archaeologists can afford."

"Can't go wrong with a classic," James replied with a grin. "Even a cheap classic."

"Ta." As they clinked their glasses together, Teddy kept James’ gaze.

Teddy sipped the ale and tapped his glass down on the table. James narrowed his eyes at Teddy’s look. 

"What?" he asked, feeling a grin begin to spread across his face.

When they had been young, that look had meant mischievous trouble had been brewing not too far off. As adults, he wasn't quite sure what it meant just yet. 

Teddy shook his head, smiling. "Nothing, nothing. Just haven’t seen you in ages."

James laughed, feeling warm. "Well, here I am. Pretty much the same as ever, really."

Teddy hummed in response. "Dunno about that, you seem to change every time I see you. Always coming back from some new adventure, with loads of wild stories, a new _look_ —"

James shook his head, but was unable to stifle his grin. "You're daft. Cute, but daft."

Teddy tilted his head in acknowledgement, dark lashes falling across his cheekbones as he closed his eyes. "Thank you, thank you. I try."

"By Merlin's left saggy ballsack you do," James protested, kicking at Teddy’s shin lightly under the table. 

Teddy put on an exaggeratedly sad face, even as he trapped James’s foot between his own. James tried vainly to ignore the arc of heat that flashed through him at the touch and almost missed Teddy’s next words. 

"I'm crushed, Jamie. Here I am, trying to tell you I care about you. And that I am very sympathetic about the tragic circumstances, as I've been informed by some very reliable sources—"

"Al, no doubt."

"—of your very own curse." Teddy raised his dark eyebrows in emphasis.

James burst out laughing. "A curse? That was the best he could come up with? I'm beginning to think Al is losing his touch."

"Al informed me it was extremely serious. ‘Something something Etruscan grave disruption.’ I think he was already picking out your funereal wreath."

"Mmhm, I'll bet," James responded sarcastically, taking a sip of his drink. Albus always did have the blackest humour of the family. "And what, pray tell, are the terms of this curse I suffer under? Do I really need to make my final arrangements?"

Teddy raised a sarcastic brow of his own, and his response was arch. "He didn't elaborate."

"Bollocks. What'd he tell you?"

"Not a thing, Jamie," Teddy replied easily. "The exact terms of your cursed existence weren't discussed."

James tried to convince himself the warmth spreading through him at Teddy's second use of his nickname was actually the effects of the ale. He tapped a finger against his chin, pretending to think. "Alright, what has he tried before? I need to get my head shaved or else the ghost of some 3rd century nobleman is going to come back and drag me into his grave?"

Teddy shook his head.

"Alright. I need to commit to the Eternal Order of the Perpetually Obliviated or else my sense of smell will be gone forever?"

"Doesn't sound right."

"I'm cursed to follow every order given to me, even at the cost of my own life and true love?"

Teddy grinned and gave James an exaggerated wink over the rim of his glass. "Kiss me, Jamie. Let's make your true love jealous."

James rolled his eyes, ignoring how his heart leapt at the words. His throat suddenly felt very tight. It was obvious Teddy was joking, wry grin curling his lips. 

He tried desperately to drag up the most immature thing Albus could have suggested. "I need to get shagged by the end of the summer or my knob will fall off?" 

The pause Teddy took to respond was just a touch too long. "No, I don't think that was it."

James let out a startled laugh that sounded just the slightest bit choked. Imagining Teddy imagining _his_ knob was just the slightest bit— well, it was certainly _something_. 

"You're here to tell me you care about what happens to my cock?" James asked and tried to pretend to he didn't stumble horrifically over the last word. 

Teddy, on the outside, looked unfairly calm. But contained laughter was beginning to screw up the corners of his lips, and his cheeks were glowing a bit red. "I may have mentioned something… to that effect. Just want to pass on my regards."

"Your offer is touching," James replied as sarcastically as he was able, before realising how it sounded. He snapped his mouth shut, feeling his face flush. He was going to burst into spontaneous flames before he knew it.

Teddy looked like he nearly choked on a big swallow of ale. "You wish," he joked, voice weak with laughter. Teddy cleared his throat and continued in a more suave tone, "Especially by someone as amazing as me." 

James scowled. He had walked right into that one. James shifted in his seat, aware of how his body had tensed. The idea of Teddy _touching_ him, especially when their legs were tangled together under the cramped table and he could smell Teddy’s cologne, was giving him an uncomfortable reaction. 

He kept his voice determinedly jovial. "Yeah, well, you’d have plenty of experience with that, wouldn't you, you wanker?" 

Teddy laughed, his brown eyes sparkling in the light, and James felt his heart lighten. Teddy nudged his knee against James’ under the table, and they continued on as if nothing had happened.

* * *

The problem was, James thought as he let himself into his flat that night, was that it was ridiculously easy between them, up until it wasn't. They hadn't exactly grown up together (the four years between them seemed like a lot when James was six and Teddy, ten) and then Teddy had gone off to Hogwarts and was 600 kilometres away most of the year. 

But they saw each other sometimes on weekends or holidays and when James graduated from Hogwarts and had been waffling about university, Teddy had been the one to suggest James take a gap year. He had even invited him to stay at his flat for a couple of months, when James had been about a centimetre away from pulling his hair out at his parents’ unrelenting flirting and the complete lack of anything to do out in Hertfordshire.

Those few months had changed everything for James. He got to live at Teddy’s flat in East London and meet all of Teddy’s artist friends, some of whom were wizards and some who were Muggles. He had gone to the gay clubs in SoHo and the ‘hidden’ speakeasies in Mayfair and the impossibly hipster coffee shop-bicycle shop hybrids in Hackney. 

Any thought of using his talent for history by going into a solid Ministry job like his uncle Percy or the rather predictable job of teaching at Hogwarts like his father vanished from his mind. Along with any lingering ideas that he was straight. 

It was easy between them in the way old friends had it and that was exactly what James didn't want. 

The problem was, although James felt like their friendship held the potential for more, he was sure, absolutely _sure_ , Teddy felt nothing similar. Teddy had never given any indication he wanted anything more. Even dirty jokes were friendly or slightly awkward but not tense with any sort of potential. 

It's not like he had expected anything to change between them, even when he came out to the family as gay right before he went off to university. Nothing like Teddy falling to his knees before James and declaring himself totally in love with one James Sirius Potter and would he stay with Teddy in his small flat where they could make curry together and tussle goodnaturedly over who got to set the radio dial that night, only for them to fall into making out and forget totally about the radio and the curry now burning on the hob? 

Okay, maybe he had a specific fantasy or two. Not that any of it had happened. His father had smiled and said he was proud James told them and his mother hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, rare tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes. Teddy hadn't even been at that family dinner, which was probably just as well, since it had involved his cousin Dominique asking if he had a boyfriend, and Uncle Ron saying he could set James up with one of the Chudley Cannon players he worked with when James had replied, red-faced, that he did not. 

He neglected to share why exactly he didn't have a boyfriend, though the glances exchanged between his siblings and the piercing look Lily had given him implied they had some sort of theory. 

Besides, who knew? If Teddy had been there, he might have offered to set James up with one of his many fit friends, not having a clue the suggestion was breaking James’ heart. 

That was the thing, with Teddy. In his eyes, James was never an option in a load of different ways. For a long time, James even thought Teddy was straight (that idea had been kiboshed when Teddy came out not too long after James did). Teddy had always dated girls in school, and then was in what James thought was a serious relationship with Victoire for years. They had only just broken up when James left Hogwarts and came to live with Teddy.

In his darker moments, James thought part of the reason Teddy might have offered to let James live with him was the recent breakup. Maybe Teddy was just used to having a Weasley relative around and James was a handy substitute. It was only too bad for James it wasn't one he wanted to date.

James sighed as he dragged himself over to his bed and flopped onto it face-down. The few drinks he had consumed made him warm and slightly dizzy. He snuggled further into the warm duvet and sighed. He could still smell the slightest trace of Teddy's cologne, like some of it had brushed off on him as they had embraced before both had Apparated away. 

He drifted into sleep with the delicious memory of Teddy's soft lips against his cheek as they said goodbye, his dark eyes catching the light of the streetlamp as he smiled and disappeared into the night with a soft _pop_.

* * *

"I hate this."

"You hate this? _I_ hate this." 

"Oh, what? If you hate something, I'm not allowed to hate it too?" 

Lily scoffed. "Absolutely not. Not anymore. We need to cover as much ground as possible and there is loads of ground to cover with this one."

James raised an eyebrow at his siblings’ words. He couldn't understand what they found so terrible about Teddy's outfit this time. So he was wearing red check trousers and a ratty mustard-coloured jumper James recognised from his previous time living with Teddy? It had been on its last legs then but had made it through the three years intact and it looked alright, James supposed. 

It wasn't a terrible look on Teddy. Nothing really was, in James’ opinion. Besides, they were at the Burrow to have Sunday roast with the whole Weasley family (a staggering amount of people, even with Bill and Fleur still in Egypt with his cousins). They weren't about to meet the Queen. 

Not that James had any issue with imagining Teddy in formal wear. A nice suit in black or a deep charcoal would be nice, and if he put on the midnight blue formal robes with the velvet lapels that he had worn at James’ graduation from Oxford, when James had seen him cheering from the back row as he made his way across the stage, well, James wouldn't complain. 

James rolled his eyes and dumped the heavy tureen of soup onto the rickety table set in the middle of the Weasley family lawn. As Teddy set down his own platter of pork roast with crackling, James swooped over and grabbed his arm. 

"Hey, Jamie, what's up?" Teddy asked, his gaze calm but voice touched by a bit of confusion. 

"Don't look over now," James said as he guided Teddy towards the back door. "But Al and Lily are planning your outfit’s demise as we speak. Again."

"My outfit?" Teddy frowned and looked down at his clothes. He plucked at the pilly front of his jumper. "Is it really that bad? Are they really that bad?"

"They're fine," James said. At Teddy's continued frown: "They're good! You look good. Always do."

Al yelled across the yard, "Oi! Teddy, come here!"

James sped up, dragging Teddy with him. "Don't listen to them." 

Teddy smiled and slung his arm over James’ shoulders. He pulled James up against his side and reached around to guide James’ arm around his waist. He and James were almost the same height, which put their faces on a level. It also made Teddy’s lips draw close to James’ as he spoke. 

"Oh, I don't care if they don't like it," Teddy said easily. As his smile deepened, the corners of his eyes crinkled, lashes falling heavy across the amber of his eyes. "Matter of fact, don't mind either way." 

James, who had been distracted by the curve of Teddy’s mouth, looked up. "Huh?" 

Teddy grinned. "Don’t worry about it, babe." He pulled James tightly to him as they squeezed through the backdoor of the Burrow.

James whipped his head around, thinking he had misheard. "What?"

Teddy just smiled.

* * *

James knew it was entirely impracticable to have a crush on a family friend. Alright? He knew it. It was unlikely Teddy felt the same and any sort of prodding into Teddy’s romantic feelings for him was like to blow up like a particularly difficult game of Exploding Snap, right in James’ face. 

He liked his eyebrows right where they were, on his face, where he emphatically wished his hopeless love was not displayed.

* * *

James had just got out of the bath and wrapped a towel around his waist when a large _CRACK_ sounded outside the washroom door. 

He jumped, nearly slipping on the wet floor. It was barely 8AM, which was horrendously early for any of his family to be awake and visiting. It was a Saturday morning besides, a date which Lily said was good for no more than reading, playing a lazy game of Quidditch, or sleeping in at last. (She had actually said ‘shagging’ but that wasn't an option available to James at the moment.)

Cautiously James grabbed his wand and poked his head out into the hallway. It was eerily quiet, morning light from the small window at the end of the hall barely illuminating the space. Of course this was one of the only mornings he didn't bother taking a change of clothes into the bath with him and he didn't want to risk his clothes ricocheting through his apartment with an _Accio_ if someone had snuck in. 

There was a loud clatter from the kitchen, as if whoever it was had knocked over a pile of books, and James winced. He hadn't had much of a chance to put things away since his return, and he was really hoping they hadn't knocked to the ground the pile of antique— and very delicate— apothecary bottles he'd picked up in Rome on his way home. 

Holding his towel tight around his hips, he sidled quietly into the hall. He hoped it wasn't one of Al’s strange friends from his fashion course at Central St. Sebastian's, one or the other of whom James had agreed to let crash in his flat while he'd been gone, under the strict rule that they be completely gone by the time James returned. 

Last time James had spent any time with Albus’ course mates, they'd destroyed his favourite pair of trousers, pierced one of his ears, and spilled wine all over a priceless French potions primer from the 16th century. Suffice to say he wasn't a fan. 

James peeked around the doorway into the kitchen. It was empty, but there on the floor was a scattered pile of his old textbooks, and the bottles were safe on the counter. For a second he relaxed, stepping inside the kitchen. He frowned. Maybe there really wasn't anyone there. 

Quick footsteps sounded from behind James. On instinct he spun around, wand raised. 

" _Levicorpus!_ " James called. 

Lily flicked her wand and a Shield Charm erupted in front of her, shivering with the impact of James’ spell. 

She took a bite out of the energy bar she had clearly dug out of James’ cabinet and mumbled through her full mouth, "That was rude." For a Lily awake before noon on a weekend, she was strangely unperturbed.

"It's 8AM, Lily!" James lowered his wand, irritated. His glasses were beginning to fog up so he swiped them off his face and tried to wipe them on his towel. "What are you doing here?"

"Don't you remember?" When James looked blank, partially because he was still holding his glasses in his hand and Lily was an amorphous blob in front of him. He could almost hear Lily rolling her eyes as she strode forward. "Mum’s surprise party? C'mon, we're going to be late! She's going to be there in a second." 

"Oh, bollocks, I forgot," James said, shoving his glasses back on his face. In order to actually surprise Ginny with a birthday party, it had to be done at least a week early so of course it had slipped his mind. "Let me just grab some clothes."

"There's no time, James, let's go!"

She grabbed his upper arm with her wand hand and a second later James felt the all-familiar squeeze of Apparition begin to squash his body. 

James was still swearing as Apparition took hold. As they winked out of existence, Lily just took another bite of her energy bar.

* * *

A nausea- inducing whip through liminal space later and they were landing hard on the cold, dewy grass behind of James’ childhood home. James staggered a bit and only just caught his towel as it began to slip down his hips.

He turned to Lily. "You couldn't have given me another 30 seconds to _Accio_ some pants, Lily?" 

The squat cottage-style house with its cheery windows full of light looked deliciously warm, but was definitely a bit chillier at 8AM in Hertfordshire in August than in James’ flat. James hugged an arm across his chest, trying not to shiver.

"It's a matter of timing, James!" Lily replied, striding across the grass towards the back gate. James followed close behind, wincing as his bare feet dug into the sodden ground. "She's going to get back from her pickup game of Quidditch at half eight, and it's nearly that time now. I'm surprised you weren't here at the crack of dawn; that's when Teddy arrived."

James nearly tripped, and tried to blame it on the uneven ground. "Why would that change anything?" 

Lily shot him a wry grin over her shoulder. "Thought you'd want as much time as possible to flirt with each other."

"I- I do not _flirt_ with him," James spluttered. "Where you would get that-"

"Merlin’s pants, it's not a bad thing, James. He flirts with you, too," Lily said, looking at James as though he were daft.

"As though that's the poi— wait." James hurried to catch up to Lily's quick stride. "What? No, he doesn't! I'd have noticed." 

Lily stopped short so quickly James nearly smacked into her back. 

"You two are the most ridiculous beings I have ever come across." She spun, sienna-red hair whipping around in a great wave. 

She always did like doing that, James thought as he batted some hair away from his face. 

"One," she began, raising a finger as she started to count, "you never know when someone's flirting with you, James. Two, Teddy would have snogged you ages ago if he was any less oblivious than you. Tragically, for everyone else aware of your mutual pining, you are equals in that respect. Three—" 

James opened his mouth to protest the ridiculous statements when Lily huffed in frustration and spun back around. 

"Anyway," she said, "there's no time to explain. You were supposed to be here at quarter to 8 to help Dad set up the decorations, and now we’re late. Let’s go."

"Okay, I guess," James grumbled as he nearly tripped over a clump of grass. "But now mum's more likely to get me in my birthday suit as a present than anything else." His mind still spun with Lily’s words, which were _preposterous_.

Lily grinned. "Probably better than the gift you gave her last year."

James perked up in annoyance. "That was a priceless specimen! I thought she liked pygmy puffs."

"She does, but I don't think the bones of one from the 8th century are really what she means by that. I think she likes them, oh, I don't know, alive?"

Lily swung open the back door and they trooped into the well- lit kitchen. James made a face at the mud dripping from his feet, which had made a cartoonishly clear line from the back door to where he stood. 

"Well, anything's better than the dragon claw hat you got her from Australia. I thought transporting Onerous Outback claws across international borders was illegal. And the look on Uncle Charlie's face—"

"Don't be jealous just because mum actually wore—"

"Ha! As if that's—"

"Hey, James," a voice cut in, "G’morning Lily." 

Both abruptly stopped and turned to see Teddy standing in the doorway, holding a cup of tea. James noticed something was different about him, though for a moment it wasn't obvious. Then it hit him. 

James suspected Albus had gotten to him in the early morning hour when James knew Teddy to be particularly pliable. It would explain why he was wearing a dark blue cashmere sweater over a maroon patterned Oxford shirt, black suit trousers with a shiny black satin stripe down the side and not his usual beat up trainers, but swear-to-Merlin, wing-tipped brogues. It was a good outfit, almost a name-branded version of James’ usual style, although importantly, not very _Teddy_.

Teddy raised an eyebrow as his dark brown eyes slid over James’ face, over the slope of his neck and down the still-slick expanse of his chest. James only barely stifled the urge to slap a hand across his chest, where he was now excruciatingly aware his nipples were beginning to pebble up. James was also suddenly very aware he was only wearing a rather thin towel around his hips. 

It wasn't like Teddy had never seen James’ bare chest before. They had lived together, which meant James had a front row ticket to the daily Teddy Lupin Show, which had done nothing but take the slight crush James had always harboured for him and grown it into a full-blown _thing_. What Teddy had gotten out of the arrangement, he wasn’t quite sure.

James sometimes wanted to melt into the ground with embarrassment when he remembered all the ridiculous prancing about he had done as an eighteen year old, trying desperately to get his crush’s attention. Lying suggestively draped across the sofa at home, trying so hard to be cool and unaffected by his first shot of vodka (gross, even now) as it had burned down his throat, or snogging a hot Muggle boy with dark turquoise hair whose lips quirked in a familiar way, all while Teddy looked on, gently amused and thoroughly, frustratingly platonic. 

On that note, maybe trying to retain his dignity was a moot point. James braced a hand on his hip and tried to look like this was all just a normal Saturday. It practically was, in the Potter family. 

"That's an interesting look, Jamie. Are you going to jump out of a birthday cake?" Teddy asked, taking a swig of tea. His eyes were sparkling. 

"Ha ha," James replied flatly. Teddy's ‘normal’ look was throwing him off. "I forgot my nipple tassel pasties at home, you berk, otherwise you'd have a front row seat to the James Potter spectacular—"

"I feel like I've already had a VIP showing of it," Teddy replied. "Remember the New Years ‘do we snuck into in Shoreditch?"

James felt himself flush deeply all down his chest and he knew it was visible. "No," he replied shortly, "I have no idea what you're talking about." 

He strode towards Teddy, trying to get by him into the living room. That was a memory he didn't particularly wish to recall. 

"Really?" Teddy asked, raising his eyebrows as James brushed by him. "Well, you were dancing on the table, and you had stripped off your shirt and when you tried to get me up on the table with you at midnight, you almost broke your arm—"

"I have no idea what you mean!" James’ voice had gone quite high. He had already made it halfway across the living room to safety but he spun around and pointed a finger at Teddy's gently amused face. This was turning into a very stressful morning. He did not need to add to it with the memory of that particular New Year's party. 

James sniffed, trying to regain some measure of dignity. "I am not about to take criticism about my wardrobe by someone who looks like they were cut out of a Marks & Spencer advert—"

"Hey! I spent a long time on that outfit," Albus protested lazily from where he lay sprawled across the overstuffed couch. He was drinking coffee out of a mug nearly the size of his own head, likely due to his, like Lily's, hatred of mornings. "Those trousers are Comme des Garçons, you uncultured milquetoast."

James smirked at his brother. He knew the M&S comment would annoy Albus and it confirmed his suspicions that Albus was behind the change. "I don't know what that is, so you can't insult me with it." 

"Comme des Garçons is a _brand_. And that's not a thing to be proud of—" Albus began, just as Teddy cut back in. 

"Believe me, Jamie, that was not a complaint," Teddy said. "I just didn't know you were an exhibitionist, that's all. I guess I should have suspected. It's a good look, though."

Well, James had no idea what to do with _that_ , or the teasing, appreciative look Teddy seemed to be giving him. He felt his cheeks warm as something electric shot between them. He forgot how irritated he was at his siblings. 

"OK," James mumbled, "thanks, I guess." 

There was a moment of charged silence. Albus’ strangely amused expression was priceless, as, James was sure, was Lily’s, had he been able to see it.

"What," a voice cut in, "are you all still doing in here?"

Everyone turned to see Harry Potter standing in the doorway, pointed birthday hat strapped at a jaunty angle atop his messy black hair. He was holding a Weasley Wizard Wheezes confetti popper and looking mildly perturbed. 

"Your mum is going to be home any moment," Harry said. "James, go upstairs and change. Ginny has good memories of you running naked around the back garden when you were little but that's not the theme we've got on. The rest of you lot, get into place!"

"Alright, alright," James said, relieved to finally exit this conversation. "I’m going, believe me."

As he bounded up the stairs to his old bedroom, he heard Albus ask, " _Now_ you tell me there's a theme to this party?"

* * *

James pushed open the door to his childhood bedroom and frowned. 

It was an absolute mess, which was not how he had left it. His single bed (complete with Appleby Arrows duvet) was covered with discarded clothes and the floor was littered with mismatched shoes. 

It looked a bit as if Albus’ entire wardrobe had exploded in there. James knew from personal experience it was likely the result of Albus’ transformation of Teddy. 

James rolled his eyes and kicked the door shut behind him. All of his own clothes were at his flat, so he supposed he could either wear one of Albus’ ridiculously fashionable outfits or be stuck with his dad’s nerdy t-shirts and probably his mum's jeans. That was a thing, right?

He located a pair of clean pants folded neatly on top of his old desk, pulled them on and turned. 

"Nothing for it," James muttered to himself. 

He sighed and started digging through the piles of clothes on the floor. He managed to dig up a pair of plain blue jeans that fit him fairly perfectly, despite Albus’ trousers usually being too long, due to his height and gangly legs. 

James shook his head as he buttoned them up. "Why are cropped jeans allowed if combat trousers are not?"

He discarded a huge violet jumper that looked like it had lost a fight with a Cerberus, a pair of black drop-crotch trousers with mismatched red stitches up the sides, and a shimmering blue-green silk shirt comprised totally of intricate, tiny pleats.

He was just beginning to suspect Albus had truly chosen the lesser of the sartorial evils with the rather plain navy jumper when he saw a flash of brightly printed fabric. He snatched it out of the pile and held it up. 

James burst out laughing. The shirt had bunches of baby pink and yellow daisies splattered across lavender honeycomb and navy blue butterfly shapes. To top it off were random purple scrawls in terrible 80s handwriting, ‘Pleasure Trip’ and ‘By Sea, By Air’ all across the print. 

It was perfectly, unmistakably, Teddy's shirt. James’ laughter subsided to a fond smile. Of course this was the shirt Teddy chose for a celebration, festive and light, sweet and just a tiny bit off-kilter. 

James felt a stab of pain in his chest, like someone had just struck him. Most of the time his feelings for Teddy remained as a constant, dull ache, like the rippling aftershocks of an earthquake that had struck years ago but still had considerable power. Occasionally, though, something would shake loose, and it would be as if the quake had never ended. It wanted to remind him there he still was, in the epicentre, clinging to what he could, hoping he'd survive it all. 

New Year's had been one of those times, when James felt like he'd been knocked totally off his feet (he had toppled off the table but that was separate). He had been drunk and reckless and full to the brim with electricity and the wild knockabout feeling he got around Teddy. 

They had been living together for a few months by that point, and James was beginning to realise the childish crush he held was growing into something more and he was wanting, always wanting, around Teddy. He didn't know what to do, where to go with the fizzing, golden feeling in him that had seemed to large to bear but too perfect to give up. That night, he grabbed at Teddy's arm to pull him up. 

Suddenly all he wanted was Teddy up there with him on the top of the world, lights spinning dizzily about them, the pulse of the song and the rising crescendo of the crowd as everyone cried, "Ten, nine, eight—" and Teddy would lean in, hands cupping James’ jaw, stars glittering across his dark eyes, lips inches from James’ own. 

Suddenly it had all seemed so obvious to him. 

That was when James found himself on his back in the middle of the club’s dancefloor, head throbbing and arm clutched to his chest. Teddy had leaned close, sure, but it was only to make sure James hadn't lost his wand in the fall, before Apparating them to St. Mungo’s just as the clock struck 12.

James had moved out two weeks later, taking whatever could fit into his rucksack and choosing the first place on the map he could get a Portkey to. A bit extreme, yeah, but again, he had been eighteen and hopelessly in love with his friend. 

James brought the shirt to his face, inhaling deeply the scent of spice and musk that reminded him so much of Teddy. The cotton was soft on his face, print faded into the fabric with time and considerable wear, and for a second, just a second, James allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to have Teddy embracing him, the heat and heartbeat thrumming in his chest behind the shirt, rather than James’ own hands. 

"That's clean, you know."

James jerked back, whipping the shirt away from his face. He shot a glare over his shoulder at Albus, who was leaning against the doorframe and giving him a very knowing look. 

James’ mind spun wildly. He felt oddly raw and vulnerable, caught off guard by feeling and wanting and the sharp reality that was Teddy never being able to look at him the way he ached for. And now here was Albus with his strange brand of sympathy. 

"That's why I was smelling it," James heard himself say. His vulnerable side slid effortlessly behind sarcastic humour. Just to sell it, he leaned in and gave the shirt an exaggerated sniff. "Ah, fresh. Just like I thought." 

"You should wear it," Albus suggested in a casual tone. "It's a good colour."

"Is that why you made Teddy change?" James asked as he dropped the shirt back onto the pile. The t-shirt emblazoned with a massive SUPREME decal was looking rather good at the moment, but it had disappeared somewhere. 

"It's not Teddy's," Albus replied as he took a few steps towards James. "It's mine."

James narrowed his eyes at his brother. Albus had a concrete-solid poker face honed by countless games of Exploding Snap with Uncle George and Uncle Ron. He couldn't tell when Albus was lying, and though something told him he had to be, Albus’ face was calm, truthful. 

"Then why—"

"James, put on the shirt," Albus cut in. "Mum will be here any second and Dad will kill you if you're not downstairs and as much I'd love to see it, I promised mum no bloodshed this month." 

"Can vampires survive a month without blood?" James asked as he reluctantly grabbed the shirt and started pulling it on. It fit perfectly, because of course it did. He was surrounded by that scent, now, that almost physical touch of Teddy and it was making his heart beat skyrocket. "Won't you just shrivel up like a grape if you don't feed?"

"Next time, I'm just going to let dad murder you," Albus replied as he pushed James gently out the door. 

James just rolled his eyes and hoped he could survive the next couple of hours.

* * *

"Going for subtle, I see," Lily said as she finally cornered James after brunch. 

James pushed another chocolate biscuit into his mouth. He had smashed himself into a corner of the living room where there was a huge, squashy red armchair that James swore his dad had nicked from the Gryffindor common room. With a giant book about pre-Roman burials in Britain in front of him and the majority of the family either involved in a complicated Gobstones game or setting up for a Quidditch game in the field behind the house, he was largely invisible. 

He had already gotten a strange look from Hugo when the rest of the family had Apparated over for brunch. And when they passed by each other on trips between the kitchen and the picnic set up outside, Hugo had caught his eye. 

"Good shirt, James. Feel like I've seen it before. Where's it from?" Hugo's smirk told James he already knew. 

James had scowled.

"Nick it from your boyfriend's closet?"

"Teddy's _not_ my boyfriend," James had protested. He had looked around to see if anyone else was nearby but the lawn was empty.

Hugo had held up his hands, but he had been laughing. "Didn't say anything about Teddy, mate. Anyway, see you later."

Hugo had patted James gently on the arm as he passed.

Suffice to say, James was having a very strange morning. He stared up at Lily, chewing on the biscuit, waiting for her to say something. 

"Have you talked to Teddy yet?" Lily asked.

"No," James said shortly. "Why would I?"

There hadn’t really been a good time for them to talk, for any reason. Either they had been with the rest of the family and there had been no time for a private aside, or they were sat at opposite ends of the long table when they ate brunch, or Teddy had gotten dragged into the competitive Gobstones game by an enthusiastic Rose, like now. 

Lily plopped herself down on the arm of the chair. "This is a very interesting way of indicating your interest. Very oblique. Very _you_." 

"Who’s to say I’m interested?" James grumbled. "It’s just a shirt." 

He flipped to the next page in the book, which was filled with gruesome photos of warrior burials. He had been trying to distract himself, but he wasn’t quite sure it was working.

During brunch, he had gotten a brief look from Teddy that he hadn’t really been able to decipher, and that had been it. It had been a strange sort of letdown. He felt like he was wearing a huge neon sign with his feelings for Teddy emblazoned across it, because what sort of knobhead would wear someone else’s shirt, honestly, and everyone but Teddy could bloody read it, which made James think perhaps he didn’t want to read it. At all.

"Are you not interested in him?" Lily asked, voice lifted in surprise. James motioned at her to quiet down, which Lily ignored. "Or are you being a surly bastard because you think a similarly obtuse man is unable to read your secretly coded message of love?"

"Lily!" James sat up, dumping the book onto the side table. He hated how she had so neatly hit it on the head. "I am not obtuse," he muttered. "And neither is Teddy."

"Fine, James, but the real question you need to ask yourself is this," Lily leaned down, her voice softening, "Do you want to pine forever, or do you want to just ask him what he wants?"

"Neither, to be honest."

Lily pursed her lips. "Those are the only two options. Just get it over with. Even if he says no, you can continue to pine anyway."

James looked up into Lily's clear gaze. "That's romantic," he said sarcastically. 

"A true romantic, me," Lily said, pressing a hand delicately to her chest in the manner of a Victorian maiden. "But really, you might as well. It’s been fun watching the two of you moon about each other the past few years, but it’s getting painful. Someone needs to step up, and as I’m your sister, it’s easier for me to tell you it’s a sure bet. I promise."

"I’ll think about it," James said slowly. Lily was a lot of things—for example, sharply perceptive— but intentionally cruel wasn’t one of them. If she said it was true, it most likely was.

"For the sake of my vicarious emotional torment, please do."

James peered around Lily to where the Gobstones game was still in full swing. No one was looking their way. Just as he looked, the group let out a cheer and Albus leapt to his feet, pointing at his best friend Scorpius Malfoy, who had just gotten a face full of slime. 

"Potter!" Scorpius bellowed. Smoke began to rise from Scorpius’ eyebrows in little curlicues. "I'll get you for that!"

No one was looking at them, nor could any have heard, including Teddy. Taking the opportunity presented, James leapt up and escaped out the back door.

* * *

Outside, the late summer weather was warming up the wide spread of lawn that spilled away from the back of the Potter family home. James could see his mother and Uncle Charlie zooming around overhead, throwing a Quaffle back and forth. Down at the edge of the pitch Lee Jordan set up the magical microphone he’d use to commentate with later. 

As James watched, Uncle George appeared out of the back shed, carrying a couple of broomsticks over his shoulder. He had his usual jaunty swagger as he sauntered up the path and dumped the brooms next to Lee’s table.

Lee looked over, his voice crackling through the microphone. "Oi, Weasley, you ever heard of taking care of your things?"

George grinned. "I take care of my boyfriend, don’t I?"

He swooped in and pressed a kiss to Lee’s cheek, laughing as Lee pushed him playfully away, an answering grin on his own face. As Lee leapt up and started chasing George around the Quidditch pitch, James smiled. He headed around the side of the house, looking to sit in the garden or take a walk through the woods that bordered the property, have a think. He hesitated at the low brick wall that separated the two.

"Going for a walk?" a low voice asked over his shoulder. James looked up and caught a flash of Teddy's smile as he stepped up behind James. A warm hand cupped his elbow. "Up for some company?"

"‘Course," James replied, feeling his grin widen. Nerves rattled away inside him, as they usually did around Teddy, but excitement was close behind. He could think with Teddy there, test out Lily’s theory. "Let’s go."

They took off on the winding path through the woods, its secrets known to all the Potter kids through endless childhood exploration. Under the dappled blue shade spread by the sweet chestnut and scattered oak trees, it was cooler, closer to autumn weather. They headed up the path a short way until it swung around into a small meadow bounded by a ring of old oak trees, their heavy branches sweeping the ground. 

James stopped and leant up against the trunk of a tree, Teddy beside him. For a moment they stood next to each other in the quiet, watching the golden- green trees move around them. 

"That's a nice shirt," Teddy said.

Teddy made a show of peering at the printed words scrawled across James’ chest, and even reached over to touch the slightly-crumpled collar, his fingertips just grazing the hot skin underneath. James found it suddenly difficult to breathe. "Looks familiar," Teddy said, a note of teasing in his voice. 

"I knew it was yours," James replied, his voice rather soft. He cleared his throat. That was meant to sound more irritated at Albus for blatantly lying to him, but instead he sounded rather breathy. He couldn’t banish Lily’s words or suggestion from his mind. 

Teddy's eyes flickered with something. "Oh, did you?"

"Kind of obvious, isn't it?" James raised a brow, trying to keep his cool. "Don't know anyone else who's as big a fan of the 80s as you, Teds." 

Teddy laughed and James’ heart leapt unfairly. "I don't know if I'm a fan, really."

"A connoisseur, then, of the best prints of the charity shops." 

"Oh, that’s a title I'd wear with pride if you'd bestow it to me, Jamie." Teddy winked and tilted his head, soft brown hair falling in a dark arc across his cheekbones. 

"Milord," James said in mock seriousness, miming putting a crown on Teddy's bowed head. For a moment his hands rested on Teddy’s hair, fingers cupping his ears delicately. James dropped his hands as Teddy touched his hair as if adjusting the crown. 

"Thank you, sir," Teddy said, dark eyes glinting with mischief. "Why did you decide this was the best choice? Al near on drowned me with his closet just trying to get me away from it."

The words were on the tip of James’ tongue, ready to spill out. _Al lied to me. He insisted it wasn't yours._ Sound completely gullible, like he was. But crushing those were Lily's words from earlier. _He flirts with you, too. Ask him what he wants._

Teddy reached out and touched the sleeve of James’— his own shirt, expression complicating. "Still like it, though."

James felt like his brain was just spreading its hands out, as if to say, ‘What is the truth?’ The Gryffindor part in him (he had been sorted a Ravenclaw but he had gotten his fair share of the Potter family recklessness, too) finally just pushed to the front with an emphatic _Go for it._

"It’s a favourite of mine, too. Plus, it fit the best," James said, spinning slightly and showing off. Teddy’s warm hand slipped down James’ arm as he moved, drawing a line of heat with it. "And I'm cute in it, yeah?" 

Teddy let out a small _hmm_ , a smile playing at his lips. "James Sirius Potter, are you fishing for a compliment?"

"I think you got the most for your changed look," James deflected. Teddy smirked as he looked down at his trousers and wiped off some invisible speck of dirt. "Speaking of— how'd Al even convince you to to, er—"

"Take off my clothes?" Teddy provided. He sounded so cheeky, James wanted to roll his eyes. "Get naked?"

"Right," James replied, feeling his face heat up. He was useless at flirting, if that was indeed what he was trying to do. 

Teddy shrugged. "Didn't take a lot, to be honest. It was 7AM so, you know, limited defenses. Plus, I didn't mind. I was up for a change." 

"Why’d you want to change?"

 

Teddy didn’t answer for a moment as he ruffled his hair with one hand, tilting his head. Specks of bright paint, always impossible to fully remove, curved around the edge of his hand. Above, the trees rustled in a rush of wind. Dappled sunlight spilled over his cheekbones and made the silver engraving on his earring glint. He looked like a painting, but a vitality that couldn't be captured by paints or a canvas flickered behind those brown eyes, thrummed through his limbs.

Soon Teddy would go back to his glittering life with his artist friends in London and James would head back to sleepy, medieval Oxford, to be buried under books and dusty archaeological finds. James always tried to find reasons to visit Teddy, went to every family gathering in the hopes of seeing him, but still he missed Teddy. He felt stuck in the strange midway point, not wanting to push too close to Teddy and yet aching for something more. 

"Wanted to try something different, I dunno. See if it suited me," Teddy said. He ran a hand over the soft front of the cashmere jumper. 

James tried not to imagine what it would be like to have Teddy doing the same thing while James wore the jumper. Failed, miserably. "It does."

A smile tugged at Teddy’s mouth. "Feels like I'm dressed like you." 

There was something in his voice that made James flush with warmth, like Teddy really was wearing his clothes. His heartbeat ticked up. He gulped. "Good?"

"Yeah," Teddy said softly. "You should nick this from Albus when I leave. Bet it'd look good on you."

James pretended to turn a critical eye on Teddy. It was true, he was dressed in what could be a mirror of one of James’ outfits, if refracted through a particularly posh filter. 

"You want me to steal more of your clothes?" James asked, raising an eyebrow. "Teddy Remus Lupin, are you encouraging the theft of personal property?"

"Only in the pursuit of beauty, Jamie. Pure aestheticism is what I'm after."

"A true artist, you are," James joked. He jostled Teddy’s shoulder, leaning close. He caught the warm edge of Teddy’s cologne, a familiar scent that always made James want to lean in, press his face into Teddy’s chest. His voice caught slightly in his throat. "Are you saying I'm beautiful, then?"

Teddy’s hand stuttered in its downward swipe across the jumper and he laughed, but there was an obvious flush to his cheeks now. It was strange, how easily James could throw him off. He hadn’t noticed that before. 

Teddy’s voice was just a touch too sincere for it to be a joke when he said, "An aesthetic masterpiece, you are." Teddy cleared his throat. "What a pair we are today."

"You dressed like me, me dressed like you." James wasn't sure why, or how, but something loosened his tongue at that moment, made his voice draw soft, "Like we're boyfriends."

Teddy blinked and for a fraction of a second he was very still. His eyes darted over to James. 

James felt like he could hardly breathe. Half of his mind was repeating _Fuck fuck oh bugger fuck James what did you just say Merlin's tit fuck!_ while the other half was holding him upright, made him stay in place, made him hold Teddy's gaze steady. He forced himself not to laugh any of it off, willed Teddy to understand. 

It could be a joke, could be nothing, a strange comment to Teddy that he ignored. On the other hand, it felt obvious enough to strike James dead. A thoroughly oblique way of indicating interest in someone, truth hidden in an innocuous phrase, but also blindingly obvious to anyone in the know. 

But maybe not.

Teddy was silent long enough for James’ mind to begin making frantic plans to apply for a position in the Ministry after all, CV submitted attention to Department of Mysteries. He could work on sending out coded messages or just work where he wasn’t allowed to say anything at all. Life under an Unspeakable hex might be preferable to whatever he had just said. Maybe he could start immediately. 

Then Teddy spoke.

"That's true," Teddy replied slowly. There was something guarded in his expression, but hopeful, too. 

James felt his breath catch in his throat, realised his heart felt like it had just restarted. "Very true."

"I think those are even my jeans," Teddy said as he reached out and hooked a finger through one of the belt loops. "A full boyfriend look you've got on there."

James smiled.

Teddy tugged a little on the belt loop and James went willingly, stepping forward until they were nearly pressed together. James heart was racing. Close up, Teddy's eyes were rich amber and alight with the summer afternoon light. 

"Suits us, don’t you think?" James asked softly. He could barely hear his own voice above his heartbeat, the strange rush in his ears. He wanted Teddy to say something, wanted to say it. Wanted Teddy to just _kiss him._

"Absolutely suits us," Teddy replied. He wrapped his arms around James, pulling him close, until James could feel the quick rise and fall of his breath against his own racing heartbeat. Teddy’s gaze slid down to James’ lips as he leaned in, voice getting distracted. "A masterpiece in, uh, two parts. Best thing I’ve ever seen."

James murmured an assent but honestly he couldn’t remember half of what they were saying. His hands slid up Teddy’s shoulders until they were cradling Teddy’s face, thumbs tracing along the edge of his jaw. It was strange and marvelous he could do this and in response Teddy’s smile would light up like dawn breaking, spilling out of him as if he couldn’t help it. 

"Boyfriends kiss, don’t they?" James asked, words almost lost against Teddy’s lips.

"Absolutely," Teddy replied, and then they were kissing, pulling each other closer like they’d both wanted to do this for ages. Maybe they had. James felt happiness swell up and through him. It was like a particularly good Cheering Charm, except this was _real_ , golden sunlight falling around them, with only the cool wind through the boughs above and the soft sounds of the woods around them.

* * *

It was only much later, when they had migrated to the meadow and were lying tangled together amongst the sweet smell of crushed grass, that James suddenly laughed. He pulled back from Teddy.

"What?" Teddy asked, warm hand cupping the nape of James’ neck. He looked thoroughly kissed, perfect.

"Nothing important," James said. "Just remembered I had a dream like this before."

Teddy laughed, tracing over James’ cheekbones with one finger. "Got any other dreams in mind of coming true, Jamie?"

James smiled brilliantly. His heart felt full to bursting. "Plenty."

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of the 2018 HP Next Gen Fest. The creator will be revealed on November 30.


End file.
